


Summer heat

by Startanewdream



Series: Jily Lives AU [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Established Relationship, F/M, Good Parent Lily Evans Potter, James Potter & Lily Evans Potter Live, Potter Family-centric (Harry Potter), Smut, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:14:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29068614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Startanewdream/pseuds/Startanewdream
Summary: James is late and the summer heat always brings out Lily's emotions.Set during Order of the Phoenix.Rated M.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Series: Jily Lives AU [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116542
Comments: 22
Kudos: 70





	Summer heat

**Author's Note:**

> The amazing prompt of @Secretsongdeer was: _"James or Lily is late from an Order mission, and the other is worried sick"._
> 
> It turned out into this chaotic emotional roller-coaster set during the summer of 1995.

James is late.

It is not like it never happened before, it is not like every Order mission has a defined duration of time and it is not like he is on a particularly dangerous mission tonight, but still fear bubbles like acid in her stomach. He is supposed to be on watch-duty with Sirius, and while she trusts Sirius to guard him with his life, she also knows Sirius can be a little hothead too and Sirius _hates_ to stay still for too long.

Also, when they are together, Prongs and Padfoot, things tend to escape control, even for a mission that is supposed to be only guarding a door.

Or maybe she is overreacting. Many simple things could have happened. Tonks got caught in her work and could not relieve them; someone decided to stop by the Department of Mysteries and they had to wait to get out. Still, Lily knows she will never get used to that feeling of waiting for him to come home safe.

Maybe it was the years of relative peace they enjoyed that have made her feel more unacquainted with that waiting. For the last fifteen years, James had not once taken a mission for the Order. Ever since Harry was born, they both had promised to concentrate their energy in protecting their son - and all they had done that first year was hiding, moving from a place to another, until Voldemort had finally found them and -

She blinks, deciding to not let her thoughts wander in that direction - in that horrible night -, and her eyes fall on Harry. He is sitting on the kitchen table, reading a muggle newspaper, his face closed and troubled.

That is not new. All summer Harry has been distraught, demanding they talk to him and yet refusing to say anything himself. Lily can read her son easier than she can read the book she is supposed to be currently studying, and she can see a storm brewing inside Harry, but he insists on staying silent. He hasn’t said a word about that night in the graveyard with Voldemort, nor about Cedric Diggory and not even a mention of whatever dreams have been tormenting him at night.

Her husband is late and her son is suffering and she cannot help any of them right now. 

Her head hurts.

Somehow this feels worse than the first time, which doesn’t make any sense. In the First War, she was too young and inexperienced and no matter what they said to each other, they were losing - Dorcas was killed by Voldemort himself, Marlene and her family had perished in a fire, they didn’t trust Remus and they trusted Peter too much, and Harry was the target of a prophecy.

Now they are better prepared. Voldemort is still hiding and they know what he is after and that gives them an advantage. As long as they can keep Voldemort away from the prophecy, they will have more time to… She doesn’t know what they will do with more time. Convince those stupid politicians that Voldemort is really back? Gather more help for the Order? Prepare better her son for -

 _No_ . This is not Harry’s obligation, no matter what a stupid prophecy says. Voldemort is still human and then he can die like any other man. _Anyone_ can kill him; she will kill him if she gets the chance. Not her fifteen-year-old son, who is currently crumpling the newspaper as if it offends him, tearing each page with particular vengefulness and throwing it in the fireplace to watch them burn.

‘Harry…’, she begins, her voice as tired as she feels, trying to ignore the buzz in her head.

‘There is _nothing_ here’, he complains, still tearing the pages. ‘Of course, we could actually _know_ what’s going on if we hadn’t cancelled our subscription of the Daily Prophet’.

Lily presses the bridge of her nose to see if her headache gets better. It doesn’t help.

‘We told you the Prophet is not reporting anything because _nothing_ is going on’.

Except for the current attack on them - the silly remarks of Harry's instability, the cruel distortion of her story with James -, but she doesn’t say that. They will have to tell Harry eventually; she just never found an opening for it, because he is always brooding and upset and Lily knows that Harry will feel guilty for causing trouble when he hears it.

As if it’s his fault for witnessing Voldemort’s return.

‘How can there be nothing to report? With you guys all mysterious?’

‘We are not - ’, when Harry rolls his eyes disdainfully, she stops to control her own rising anger. It is not Harry’s fault that she is more stressed than normal today. _Where the hell is James?_

'Don't pretend everything is fine, Mom. I see you looking at your watch every five seconds. I _know_ you are worried about Dad'.

She forces herself to breathe normally, even though she knows she won't deceive him. Harry and Lily always understood each other too well.

‘It’s just normal Order business’.

‘If there is Order business happening -’

‘There is _always_ Order stuff going on, Harry. We didn’t stay doing nothing for all these years’.

‘You could have fooled me’, he whispers loudly enough for her to hear but to also pretend she hasn't understood him.

She shouldn’t take his bait, but James is not there and _how can he be so damn late_ ? She is fearing for him and also a little mad - why couldn't he choose another mission? One that he could do safely at home? And why did _she_ have to stay behind? Someone has to look after Harry, sure, but she is as much capable as him of doing things. Next time he can be the one staying and worrying about where is she and why the hell she is late -

‘And what do you mean by that?’, she asks before she can stop herself.

Harry turns to really face her now. He may look like a copy of James sometimes, but the raging expression in his face is just like the one on Lily’s.

Like her, Harry’s temper rises too fast and too quickly.

‘I didn’t see your _amazing Order_ when I was facing Quirrell. Or when there was a basilisk in the castle. Or -’.

‘Harry -’

‘And a great job you all did last year’, he adds, ignoring her, his voice raising. ‘That bloody Death Eater was just under your nose -’

‘HARRY!’

Lily stands furiously and Harry blinks at her, seeming both surprised and satisfied that she screamed at him. 

‘You know, _this_ , right now, is why you are too young to be involved with the Order’.

‘Am I _young_?’, he asks, baffled, crossing his arms. ‘How can I be too young with all the things that happened to me?’

‘You are _fifteen_ and you don’t get it. Do you think facing Voldemort is enough? I’ve done it four times too -’

‘And _I am the one with a scar!_ I am the one that gets stuck with sphinxes and dragons and that has to escape _him_ over and over again, so no, _you_ don’t get it!’.

She closes her eyes briefly and then she can see, as if she is locked on that moment, the memory of that night, that horrible night, of Voldemort raising his wand to her little baby, of her and James alone and helpless -

_No._

‘What I get’, she says, forcing herself to calm her voice, ‘is that you are fifteen and you should be worried about other stuff. School, dates, your pimples. And I am _sorry_ that things keep happening to you and I know it’s not fair -’

‘And still, you treat me like a baby! You don’t tell me anything!’

‘You want to talk about who is withholding information? How about we talk about your nightmares?’

Harry stands suddenly, making his chair fall with a heavy sound, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are blazing with fury and for a moment Lily thinks he will scream at her.

‘I am out’, he says instead, his voice trembling with cold fury. When she opens her mouth to argue, he adds: ‘In the _backyard_. I know I can’t leave this bloody house’.

He makes the house sound like a prison.

‘You know perfectly well why you have to stay near’, she reminds him, ignoring his bad language. Harry shrugs, indifferent.

‘Yeah, that _amazing_ blood protection’, he scoffs. ‘Helped a lot last month’.

‘You are alive, aren’t you?’

‘But Cedric isn’t’, he says and more than the anger she can hear his sorrow. 

Her annoyance suddenly vanishes, and she takes a step in his direction, but Harry turns his back to her and leaves her alone in the kitchen.

 _Great_. Just all she needed. A grieving teenager son and a missing husband.

She points her wand around the kitchen, thinking of making tea for herself - and Harry when he returns from his walk around the garden. She knows her son. He will still be angry, but much less inclined to fighting again. He will accept her tea.

She glances outside the window, fanning herself with her hand. It’s early night already, but the heat did not wave. It's the hottest summer she can remember, which isn't probably helping any of them. Summer heat always brings out your emotions, her mother used to say.

And once more she feels that bitterness of worry for where James is and why he didn't warn her that he would be two hours late - he could have been drinking with Sirius right now as much as he could have fallen into a trap for all she knows and -

The thought makes her feel strangely cold and Lily shivers before she notices it's not only her mind playing tricks with her. Something is off. She can see her own breath condensing in the air. It’s eerily quiet around her and she can’t hear any sound coming from the street, nor the sound of the teakettle whistling - in fact, even though she is three feet away from the stove, she can’t feel the warmth of the fire at all. It is like there is an ice storm coming, inside the house, and she thinks she will never feel happiness again -

The realization comes to her suddenly and it helps shake her senses. Lily raises, gripping her wand in her trembling hand and she concentrates on one thought. _Find Harry_.

She leaves the kitchen, following Harry’s steps, going almost blindly to the edges of their propriety, close to the small woods that James uses to transform with Remus on full moon nights. It is dark outside as if the lights from the lamp streets cannot reach their house and the sky has lost all the stars. The despair threatens to overwhelm her and she takes deep heavy breaths, looking around - she can’t see them, she can’t see Harry, but she knows they are close… They shouldn’t be here, not here, not with their blood protection…

Except she knows Voldemort was able to touch Harry, so maybe it isn’t as strong as before… maybe Harry is helpless, and she will have to watch her son die before her eyes once more - no, she can’t think about it…

‘Mom!’

Harry’s voice breaks through her reverie and she turns towards the sound. Harry is running, coming from behind the old broom shed, his face pale and sweating. Two dementors are gliding behind him, and for a moment Lily thinks of silly horror movies, of how no matter how much the victim runs, the killer always catches it -

Harry screams for her again and Lily raises her wand, the spell ready in her lips, her mind focusing on protecting him. But Harry is still looking fearfully at her, his eyes opened in panic and it takes her a full second to understand he is not really staring at her.

But at something behind her.

The cold gets stronger than before and it is like a block of ice has dropped directly over her, almost making her heart stop beating altogether. It is not fear - it is the certainty she will never feel happiness again, that this is all useless. All she ever did was delay this moment because nothing could ever stop it - did she really think she could save herself? Or Harry?

The dementor is almost gentle as it grabs her, opening her arms and approaching her face. It does not seem to be in a hurry, and she doesn’t see the dementor’s face, because she thinks of Voldemort during that night. He wasn’t in a hurry either. 

She can hear her own voice, how she _pleaded and pleaded_ that not Harry, not ever Harry, they would do anything, her and James, because they loved Harry too much. And Voldemort had laughed, cruelly and happily, and told them to stand aside. But James and Lily had stood, their hands together, protecting their son as if their body shield would be enough - Voldemort had then blasted them out of the way like they were nothing and then he had marched to her son, his wand raised just like the dementor’s hand in her direction - and she had watched helpless, unable to stop, as he cast the Killing Curse on her son - and the world had exploded in a bright green fire and she had thought - she had believed - they all were dead… and _Harry_ who was barely one-year-old, who had died alone because she couldn’t protect him…

 _But he didn’t die_ , a small part of her thinks, _Harry is alive, your love saved him_. And she tries to concentrate on this small hope, even though this time James is not there with her -

‘ _Expecto - expecto patronum_!’

There is a small wisp of vapour, a light that seems to flicker for less than a second, but her doe does not come out of her wand. This last effort used all her strength, however, so Lily drops her wand and the dementor is upon her now, his horrible mouth close enough to kiss her, taking away her hope and her soul -

‘EXPECTO PATRONUM!’

There is a flash of light and Lily is suddenly falling in the ground, the dementor dropping her. She raises her eyes to see, through her blurred vision, antlers hitting the dementor that was holding her - it’s a stag, she realizes, so James has finally come home…

But it’s not James. It’s Harry and for all they look alike, she never once mistook one from another. 

Harry is at her side, his arms around her while he points his own wand to direct his patronus to the other dementors. His face is contorted with fury and fear and his arms are trembling, but Harry makes his patronus draw away all dementors, until his stag patronus comes back to them, circling them as if on guard.

‘They - they are gone’, Harry whispers and Lily knows he is right. The stars are shining in the sky again, there is a sound of life around them and the heat is back. She is sweating, but she doesn’t think it’s because of the summer heat anymore. 

‘Thank you’, she says weakly, and when her eyes can focus on something, she finds herself staring at the bright eyes of the stag patronus he had never seen him cast before. Her hand raises, but the patronus dissipates in thin air before she can touch it. ‘He was beautiful’.

‘It is Prongs’, Harry says, his voice still very low. ‘Can - can you walk?’

She nods and accepts his help to stand up; he is almost at her height now. She had not noticed it before.

‘Let’s go back’.

* * *

Lily hates Grimmauld Place.

It is the darkest house she ever entered and she feels that the house hates her too as if every long-dead Black is watching over her when she is there, judging her, calling her a _mudblood_ and how dare she enter their sacred house. All the pureblood air threatens to overwhelm her, crush her like a bug and she curses the place.

But for all she is unwelcomed there, she hates it more because of Sirius.

She knows Sirius hates that house that was never a home for him and she admires him for offering Grimmauld Place as a safe hour to host the Order of the Phoenix; she knows the place holds no good memories for him and she hears his bitterness whenever he mentions his parents. And Sirius is miserable all the time he is there; he loathes everything, from the house-elf he never wanted to inherit to his mother’s portrait that they didn’t manage to take down.

And an unhappy Sirius is never a good thing. She notices how he always drinks more when they are there in one of their meetings - something Snape always mentions - and how reckless he gets after staying there for more than five minutes as if he is still that teenager who once needed to prove himself so different from his family.

When she mentions it to James, he looks worriedly at Sirius, but tells her that everything is fine - but Lily knows _it is not fine_ , because Voldemort is back and Harry is suffering in silence and everything they fought for in the last fourteen years is crumbling. And she fears that James wants to be a little reckless too. They went hiding for a year before the First War ended and she knows him - he hated standing still, feeling like he wasn’t doing enough, and he is afraid to have to lie low again.

And James always enjoyed taking risks too much - he would never do anything that could harm Lily and Harry, of course, but then things are different now. Harry is older and not a helpless baby and Lily agreed to watch over him, concentrating on more internal missions, all because he assured her he would not be in danger -

All these thoughts come back to her but Lily doesn’t say anything. She feels strangely detached, doing things automatically, without really thinking about it. Some part of her registers when she and Harry arrive in the house, when he offers her a piece of chocolate that she can’t make herself eat despite knowing it will help, and when she hears their laughter. 

Sirius’s bark laughter and James’ the-world-is-a-good-place-come-laugh-with-me laughter.

The sound causes a wave of anger through her body and that almost wakes her, but the numbness is still too high.

She watches them entering the kitchen and their smiles dying when they see her and Harry, in the exact moment they register something is wrong. Harry is explaining what happened and James is at her side, his face pale - and she wants to cry, _where were you?_ , but she still keeps silent.

She almost jumps when an owl flies through the open window - owls aren’t allowed, they’ve cut communication -, but it is only an official owl from the Ministry. It shouldn’t be bad - except the Ministry of Magic has declared war against the Potters lately, so it is not surprising when the letter talks about Harry being expelled from Hogwarts.

Harry looks heartbroken and somehow more afraid than when he was running from dementors, so that sparks some life in Lily. She raises, ignoring James’ hand extended towards her - she can’t deal with him, not now - and she puts her hand on Harry’s shoulder.

‘We need to go to a safer place’, she says, her voice rough. It’s the first thing she has said in the last fifteen minutes, even though she knew they had to move ever since she saw the dementors.

‘Grimmauld Place’, Sirius suggests and for once Lily doesn’t grimace at the mention of that house. She will go anywhere if it means Harry will be safe and that was the only place she thought of.

‘But - Hogwarts - I _can’t be -’_

‘Dumbledore will solve this, Harry’, James promises, and Lily sees his patronus already galloping and vanishing in the darkness outside. It’s a stag, as always, but this vision fills her with more violence than comfort and she ignores him once more when he tries to take her hand.

‘Go pack your things, quickly’, Lily tells Harry, placing a soft kiss on his forehead before letting him go.

‘Lily -’, she hears James calling her but Lily doesn’t turn around. Sirius looks from James to her and then back again.

‘I will go help Harry’, he says, hurrying after his godson and leaving them alone.

There is a moment of silence. Lily flinches when James touches her arm, and he doesn’t insist.

‘Lily?’, he asks again, his voice very soft.

‘Where were you?’, Lily whispers, still avoiding looking in his direction. ‘You were supposed to be back more than two hours ago’.

‘I -’, he hesitates and Lily knows he is considering lying to her in that one second it takes for him to keep talking. ‘It was a very good lead, Lily, I swear -’

‘Lead’, she repeats, without any emotion in her voice.

‘It was the best one we had in months - the sewers -’

‘The _sewers_ ? You left me alone to go on a chase for _Wormtail_?’

She doesn’t need to see his face to know she got it right. She can hear the heaviness in his sighing, the one that only thinking of his former friend causes him.

And she doesn’t need to ask him how the search was. James has been looking for Peter for more than one year now and he never got close to finding him.

 _He is a rat,_ she wants to say. _You will never find him_.

‘I will go take our things’, she says instead.

‘Lily - I am _really_ -’

‘Not now, James’, she cuts him and she leaves the kitchen because she can’t stand to look at him.

It may not be fair, but so it wasn’t leaving her alone.

* * *

Dumbledore promises he will fix things, but the fact is that Harry has a disciplinary hearing and she can see real fear in her son’s eyes.

And not just that. The anger too. She hears him screaming at Ron and Hermione, obviously unhappy with the fact that he was alone all summer while they were together, no matter in a dismayed place like Grimmauld Place. Harry is feeling betrayed.

Right now, he isn’t the only one feeling like that.

Lily survives through the Order meeting barely registering what everyone is saying. She doesn’t participate in James and Sirius’ heated discussion of how the hell three dementors managed to pass their barriers to attack her and Harry, she doesn’t even acknowledge that Snape is for once glancing in her direction. They end the meeting rescheduling their patrol rounds and for the first time she submits her name, her voice daring anyone - _James_ \- to disagree with her participation; but even though she can feel James’ eyes looking intensely at her, he doesn’t say anything.

That’s for the best. She doesn’t want to hex him in front of everyone.

When the meeting is over, Sirius, obviously thinking he is being very nice, takes them upstairs to offer her and James the master bedroom. It’s a nice old room, even if a little dusty and dark, and she realizes that Sirius was late for the Order meeting because he had been fixing the room for them in whatever way he could.

A part of her thinks it was kind of him, especially because he must hate that room that belonged to his parents. Lily glances around, her eyes falling on the elegant canopy bed, but all she feels is loathe, if only by the fact that Walburga and Orion Black once slept there; she never met them and she barely heard the stories, but she saw how much they messed with Sirius to know she would hate them. The feeling would be mutual - they would despise her for her blood.

When she turns around, James is alone with her in the room, in front of the closed door. His expression is concerned.

‘Here. Eat this’, he says, offering her a chocolate bar. She ignores it. ‘You need chocolate for dementors, Lily, you know Remus -’

‘This is your fault’.

She hears her words but somehow it takes a second for her to realize she said them. 

It’s irrational, she knows, because James wasn’t the one that sent those dementors she should be able to handle, nor he is the one that threatened to expel Harry from Hogwarts, and for one mad moment, she thinks he will argue with her. But James just blinks, his shoulders slumped and he nods.

‘I know’.

‘ _No_ ’, Lily whispers, taking a step closer to him, her eyes ablaze. ‘You don’t get to self-hatred’.

James blinks.

'You don't want me to agree with you?' he asks, and Lily can hear the faint amusement in his voice, the one that always looks like an invitation for grinning with him.

Any other day she would accept it, but now there is only one emotion strong enough to break into her numbness: fury, senseless and overwhelming fury.

'You don't get to find this funny, James. You don't get _anything,_ because you _left_ us _'_.

He frowns and she sees a flash of hurt in his eyes. _Good,_ Lily thinks darkly.

'I would never leave you -'

'You weren't there. There were three dementors and an underage kid but no James Potter'.

'So I was supposed to foresee it?'

'We all knew something was bound to happen. That's why we keep our eyes on Harry, isn't it?'

'It is not like he was alone - you were there with him!'

'Yeah, I was', she admits, defeated. 'And I was useless because there were dementors and you know what I hear when they are around? That fucking Halloween night, every time'.

'That is what I hear too'.

'And all I could think was that at least _that night_ you were with me. We were losing and dying but at least you were there'.

'Lily… I was on a mission -'

'Oh, spare me, James. The Order comes first, we always agreed on this. But your mission had ended and instead of doing the right thing that was coming back to your family you decided to play the hero'.

He gasps.

'What? I wasn't -'

'No, you're right. It was not playing the hero - that’s Harry. You were on your crazy suicide revenge mission’.

'It is not - it was a _good lead_ , Lily, I wouldn't go if -'

'Did you find him? Did you see Peter? Even a hint of him?'

He doesn't say anything, but she knows the answer in his resentful face.

'Your problem is that you forget everything when it involves him'.

'He betrayed us', James spats, venom in his voice. 'Then he bleed Harry one month ago and he held him and he would watch him _die_ without saying anything. He. Betrayed. Us'.

'Yeah, but that's not what bothers you. It’s your bloody ego. It’s the fact that he betrayed _you_ '.

James' eyes are burning now.

'Yes, it was me firstly', he concedes, agony and hatred in his voice. 'But he would give us all up because he never cared'.

'Taking him down won't change that'.

'And what do you want me to do?', James finally screams and she feels a dark satisfaction in making him lose control. 'Let him go?'

'I want you to care more about us than for your selfish need for revenge!'

'I already care!'

'Then prove it!'

She is screaming too and maybe even crying because her vision is blurred once more, but still, she registers that at some point they got closer than ever, their noses almost touching. She can smell his musky scent and she can feel his heavy breath over her face. James is angry, but so is she and Lily won't stand down, won't forget that while he couldn't stop what happened, he _should be there_ , he should be with her.

He _promised_ they would always be together - and his absence _hurts_ and she is afraid and she hates him for leaving her. She only wants them to be safe. How can they be at war _again_? Why can’t they have some peace?

She hates him right now, but she hates more all the danger they are in and even then all that hate pales in comparison to how much she loves him.

'Fuck, James', she sighs.

'Fuck, Lily', he agrees, and then their lips are crashing and it's desperate and painful how she clings to him.

Her numbness is all gone, replaced by a familiar urge of James - of his lips, of his touch, of knowing he is with her. It’s been a long time since she felt this fear, this adrenaline rush after a battle or a near-death experience, but she knows how it goes.

His hands cup her face, his thumbs drying the tears that are falling there without Lily even realizing, and she feels locked in his arms - it’s a good feeling. James is home, James is safety and love. She wants more of him, all of James. She _needs_ him.

And he seems to be thinking the same about her. His hands fall to her arse, to hold her up and press her against the door of the room, her legs going automatically around his waist for better support, their lips never leaving each other. She grips the hair at the back of his head, as if holding a lifesaver she can’t let go or else she drowns.

They are not teenagers and they are not in that mad sex phase of a new relationship, so Lily knows they should stop and recover their senses. But this was Orion and Walburga Black's room, she thinks incoherently, and they would never accept someone like her there - that was the prejudice that started a war that messed with their lives. And suddenly Lily knows what she needs to do.

Her hands are shaking as much as before, though for completely different reasons, as she fumbles with his clothes, opening his shirt so she can feel his heartbeat and the muscles in his torso. James is always _so warm_ , much hotter than any summer heat.

His lips move away from hers and before she can complain, James is kissing her neck - or sucking it, she doesn’t know. Where his lips touch her skin she can feel goosebumps erupting and it is so fresh that she moans, even as he, always aware of her, keeps bending down his head until he is kissing the top of her breasts, any piece of skin her cleavage exposes.

She attends his silent request. Her hands leave his chest to take off her own shirt and bra, and as soon as she holds his neck, his mouth is covering her nipple and Lily arches her back as much as she can against the door. _It’s cool_ , she thinks irrationally, feeling his tongue teasing her and feeling the wood of the door behind her naked torso. _Good. It was too hot_.

But she still needs more.

‘James’, she moans, and he stops to look at her. His hazel eyes are dark and for as much as she loves their natural colour, she loves so much when they are almost brown, filled with lust for her. She knows it’s a match for her own desire. ‘Kiss me’, she asks, and his lips find hers once more.

They are closer now, so it’s easy to slide her hands through his chest, following the path of his hair there, until she is opening his belt and his jeans and she is feeling him, sliding her hand through his length. He moans into their kiss and his hands let her down for just the seconds it takes for him to touch under her skirt and take away her panties.

‘I need you, Lily’, he whispers and it is so much a pleading as a demand; she is willing to accept both.

She nods and he raises her again, both hands now under her skirt, one holding her tight and another grabbing her arse, his fingers pressing her skin and she hopes it leaves a mark for tomorrow. She has been hurt and bruised in battles before, and because of that she loves seeing the soft purple of the places James grabbed her rough, lost in their moment together; these are the marks she is proud of.

His lips are once again on her neck, sucking the skin there ( _good, another mark_ ), his body pressing her against the door and she can feel his hardness against her pelvis and her pulse beating down there.

‘James - _please_ ’.

He was never able to refuse her anything, not really, so James complies at once, his hand leaving her thigh just so he can help himself slide inside her - and it’s a familiar feeling that she can never get really used to, that of him filling her. She moans loudly and uncaringly, her hips trying to move for more friction and _God bless James,_ he attends her wishes once more, moving in sync with her, thrusting into her.

They are not young anymore and she knows they will probably regret this tomorrow, but right now she just tightens the grip of her legs around him, inviting him to go deeper and he groans, his head buried in her neck. It is a sound that reverberates into her, and Lily opens her eyes suddenly, her eyes falling on the master bed. It’s still a beautiful canopy bed, one that speaks of luxury and expensive fabrics, and she thinks briefly of how she hates that house, hates the people who lived there. 

_Toujours pur_.

‘James’, she calls him, and he stops moving at once to look at her, breathing heavily. ‘The bed’.

If James finds her request weird, he doesn’t say. He takes her to the bed, laying her down gently, before standing to take off his pants. She moves to take off her skirt too, but he stops her, laying over her, his hand caressing her face to keep her hair out.

‘Keep it’, he asks, and then his lips are finding hers and she loses herself happily in the taste of his mouth. His hand bounds hers above her head, and all Lily can do is arch her back as he enters her again, his movement much more desperate than before and all she can do is meet each one of his thrusts.

She wants to giggle of pure joy, but James is still kissing her and as much amused as she is, she needs that kiss more. But still, a part of her sends a big silent fuck-off for Sirius’ parents in whatever hell they are, because there is a blood traitor and a mudblood fucking in their bed and somehow this makes everything better.

‘Lily’, he groans and Lily hears the warning and request in his voice. She frees her hands, but before she can do anything, James lowers his hand to touch her, on the soft wet spot right above where their bodies meet, and she lets out a moan that is lost in their kiss.

She knows he is losing control now, his thrusts erratic and needy, and that’s fine because she feels the same. _More,_ she thinks, feeling the pressure building inside her, and like if he is reading her mind, James obliges instantly, his finger circling her faster, in sync with the movement of his body. _More, James,_ she thinks one more time, and then she is over the edge, her world exploding in a blinding light that sometimes looks a lot like what happened in that Halloween night, but so different - it is colourful (not just green) and powerful and its ache is welcomed and her heart is beating so fast and so alive.

 _God, she loves James so much_.

Almost like in a dream, she feels James pushing inside her one final time and then his body is shaking, his mouth leaving hers so he can cry her name like a prayer. After what seems years and seconds at the same time, his grip over her looses and she raises her shaking hands to cup his face until he opens his eyes.

His hazel eyes are still burning, but his voice is tender when he whispers: ‘I love you’.

She kisses him softly in response.

James rolls to lay by her side and, in a movement she has made thousands of times before, Lily lays her head over his chest, hearing his heart still beating too fast, while her hand plays with his chest hair.

‘I am sorry for not coming home sooner’, he whispers after a while, his hand caressing her hair absently. ‘You are right, it was selfish - everything. I just… I feel so _guilty,_ Lily, it is my fault only -’

She knows he is not talking about the dementor attack.

‘I trusted him too, James. We all did’.

‘But I - I was the one that was his friend first, I was the one that thought I knew him for all those years - I would have _died_ for him -’

‘You are not wrong for trusting people’, she assures him, finding his hand to grip it tightly. ‘Your faith - that is one of the most amazing things about you. He is the one at fault for not living up to your trust’.

‘I just think, somehow, that if I catch him… I can make everything all right, like if that night never happened, like -’

‘James’, she calls him softly, turning so she can look him in the face. ‘We can’t change the past. Let us live today’.

This makes a sparkling shine in his eyes.

‘I say we are definitely living’, he notes, looking around for all the mess of clothes on the floor, and she lets out an amused laughter that only James can cause. He touches her face, looking at her with undeniable tenderness and love. ‘I will be there next time’.

It is a promise and she believes him.

‘Already waiting for the next dementor attack?’, she asks playfully, and he kisses her on the forehead before they get up.

‘Harry is a magnet for trouble’, he sighs, just half-teasingly, as he picks up his wand to clean them up.

Still, she laughs softly, because sometimes laughing at their own misfortune is all they can do.

‘A little bit dusty here, no?’, James says, looking around.

‘Guess we will have chores to keep Harry busy for a while’.

‘I think he will prefer the dementors’, he jokes, smirking.

Their hands are clasped together when they descend the stairs, following the sound of people talking in the kitchen. Sirius is waiting for them, his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised, and he closes the kitchen door to muffle the sound.

‘How _old_ are you?’, he asks grumpily.

‘Same age as you, Padfoot’, James answers easily.

‘And do you have a wand?’

That makes James blink, clearly missing the point.

‘Yeah, you know -’

‘Then _why_ did you forget a basic Silencing Charm?’, asks Sirius, in a hissed whisper. ‘Do you know what I had to endure to go upstairs and cast it just so you wouldn’t further traumatize your son?’

Fifteen years ago Lily would blush at this, but now she just stares at Sirius with pure amusement.

‘That’s what godfathers are for, Padfoot’, she says nicely, raising on her tiptoes to press a kiss in his cheek, while James laughs at her side.

‘Do I even want to know what you were doing with that mouth, Evans?’, Sirius asks, looking at her with an expression torn between disapproval and respect.

‘Probably not’, she chuckles. ‘And it’s been “Potter” for a while now’.

‘Come on’, James says, coming between them because he knows they can lose themselves in their silly banters. ‘I am starving’.

‘Wonder why’, scoffs Sirius, but Lily can see a grin on his lips. Sirius always feels bad when she and James are fighting. ‘Hope you broke the bed at least’.

‘It is a work in progress’, Lily promises, winking at him, and they enter the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed it, I would love to hear your thoughts!


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